


The Siren's Song

by s-o-l-d-a-t (starsandsnipesforever)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Credence Barebone deserves to be worshipped, Credence Worship, M/M, There's a plot to this believe it or not, Until then enjoy the gratuitous smut, Veela Credence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:26:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10047335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandsnipesforever/pseuds/s-o-l-d-a-t
Summary: Credence's magical heritage may include more details than either he or Graves realize that manifest the day Graves come home early to discover Credence singing.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moons_of_Avalon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moons_of_Avalon/gifts).



> So this idea is brain child of reflecting on my HP fandom days of long ago and some of those tropes (specifically Veela!Draco) and conversations with Moons_of_Avalon about Ezra’s lovely singing voice and just how enchantingly fae-like he is. So I thought what if Credence had a Veela in his bloodline somewhere back? He got his dark hair from elsewhere, of course, but he’s still quite fair of face. And what if he and Graves didn’t know about it, and one day Credence unknowingly activated his ~Veela magic~? I posted a snippet about a month ago on tumblr, and I finally organized my thoughts into some semblance of a plot. xD
> 
> Dedicated to Moons_of_Avalon, who is largely responsible for me getting into this ship in the first place!

Usually the smell of supper greets Percival when he first arrives home as Credence likes to follow a routine. However, today he’s home early, and as he didn’t send any ahead notice to inform Credence of his premature endshift, the lack of smell comes as little surprise. The briefcase resting in his grasp contains an assortment of work related documents he intends to review in his personal study anyway. 

With an idle wave of his wand, his long coat and scarf start to levitate from his shoulders. However, they come to a pause midair, and Percival falls still, save for a slight shift of his head as he directs his ear to a very peculiar yet very intriguing sound.

It’s a voice lost in the even flow of a gentle song. Credence’s voice, he realizes, because whose else would it be? He never really gave it much thought until now, but it occurs to him that he’s never heard him sing before. His young lover is so quiet and unassuming, it never crossed his mind that he might. What a mistake that was.

The coat and scarf drift back down to his shoulders, and for several moments, Percival’s feet remain rooted where they are, eyes staring off unseeing as his ear zeroed in to the source of the sound. Too many walls sit in between them for him to make out the lyrics, but there is a fullness to the melody. Soft and soulful, every inflection as meaningful as the last. The stream is effortless, like Credence isn’t even trying. It’s beauty just simply is.

The tension in Percival’s shoulders slowly unwinds.

Creeks in the wood flooring follow with every step as Percival mindlessly makes his way through the halls, still adorned in his outerwear and carrying his briefcase. The singing grows louder the closer he gets to it, and from the solidity of every breathed lyric, Percival can tell it’s coming from the bathroom.

Stopping by the door, he turns his ear toward it. The song is none he recognizes–No-Maj created perhaps. It’s indescribable, like nothing he has every heard. Genuine beauty in its purest form, with perhaps just a touch of melancholy and longing.

Percival’s blood pulses a little more warmly through his chest from simply listening alone.  
However, listening is but a taste, and he can only stand quietly for so long before he finds himself yearning for more. The end of his wand touches the door, and the knob twists without making a sound. The door nudges open, lacking its usual creak, just enough space for a single eye to peek in.

Credence is sitting in their ornate, gold trimmed porcelain tub, overflowing with bubbles. In his hand, he holds his own wand with a light grasp, tapping it toward the air. Bits of bubble foam lift from the mountain and take shapes into stars and little people, dancing through the air and changing colors before gently descending back to the concentration. Credence grins broadly, and his eyes light up a little with every little bubble figure he creates, though his singing never falters.

Percival feels as though he’s watching something he shouldn’t, like he’s bearing witness to something ethereal and forbidden, too pure for mortal eyes.

For the past few years, he has come home to Credence every day. The younger wizard has shown more of himself to Percival than he has anyone else, surely, bared himself in the most intimate of ways for Percival’s eyes only. Yet in that moment, Percival’s eyes light up like he’s seeing Credence for the very first time.

Credence’s hair extends past his chin now, and drenched with bathwater, the locks clings to his forehead in shaggy little tufts. Bits of bubbles scatter throughout the soft curls in such a way that it almost looks ornamental. The water must be warm, Percival imagines, because Credence has a flush on his face that highlights the curve of his perfect cheekbones. An aura highlights his silhouette as though he is glowing, though perhaps that is simply a trick of the light glowing through the curtains behind him. This only seems to be accentuated by the way the moisture on his skin glistens like morning dew. Percival feels like he’s catching a glimpse into something otherworldly, and the mere sight has him breathless.

Credence moves with a relaxed and leisurely air. One leg emerges from the bubbly surface, toe pointed, and he directs his wand toward it. A sudsy sponge rises of its own accord, gliding across his skin, and Percival can’t help but notice every curve, every perfect point. His heart beats a little faster, and he swallows.

The blood coursing through his veins energizes him, tingling pleasantly all the way to his extremities as though washing away the stiffness accumulated over the years. Suddenly, Percival feels this strange compulsion to reveal himself. Not only that, but do something really impressive with it. Perhaps even run and jump in the tub, fully dressed and all. He doesn’t know what, just that he needs to do _something_. Something that will stand out. Something that will intrigue Credence and ensure that his attention is on him and only him. Never mind that they’re the only two people here. Never mind that this is absolutely absurd. Logic doesn’t seem to matter at the moment. Nothing outside of Credence’s attention and approval seems to matter.

“Percival!”

All the little bubbly figurines pop, and water splashes over the edge of the tub. Dropping his wand, Credence sinks down so that the thick layer of foam conceals him, save for his big brown eyes poking out from the mass.

Percival glances down to realize he’s entered the bathroom. When exactly he pushed the door the rest of the way open, he can’t recall. His briefcase still sits in his grasp, but finally his hand opens, and it hits the floor forgotten.

Credence’s song may have stopped, but the effects linger. Percival makes his way over to the tub, leaning down to grip the edge of it. The sight of Credence’s eyes, shy but so bright, bring a smile to his lips. “Oh, darling, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Credence sits up a bit, and the pink dusting his cheeks has deepened. He keeps his head slightly lowered and reaches up to tuck a lock of his dark hair behind one ear. “You’re home early.  
If I’d have known, I would’ve started dinner already. I’m sorry.”

Percival waves a hand dismissively. Dinner is the furthest thing from his mind. “We can reheat leftovers.”

Credence sits up a little taller, the initial shock of Percival’s sudden entry having settled in. “You’re in a good mood.” He leans over so that their faces are closer together. “Did you have a good day at work?”

“Not one bit,” Percival laughs, reaching over to playfully take a small heap of suds from Credence’s hair and dollop it on the tip of his nose. “Coming home to you singing was a delightful surprise though.”

Credence’s hands shoot out of the water to smash the little bubbles on his nose and cover his mouth. The pigment returns to his skin, peeking around his fingers. “You heard?”

Percival nods, and he reaches forward to curl two fingers around one of Credence’s digits, pulling his hand back. “You have such a lovely voice. Why have you never sang for me before?”

Inclining his head, Credence smiles sheepishly, his shoulders hunching a bit. “I never thought about it, I guess.” Credence is as naturally timid as he ever was, and Percival could just melt.

Fingers crawling across Credence’s palm, Percival wraps his hand around his. Credence’s supple lips glisten pink, slightly parted as if in invitation, and Percival can’t contain himself from closing the space and pressing his own against them. They’re as soft and sweet as they look. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathes when he finally draws back.

Credence bites onto his lower lip, stifling a hum and turning his head away. He grins bashfully, slowly returning his gaze to Percival’s. A bit of bubble fluff has landed on his scarf, and Credence reaches up with his free hand to lightly brush it away. “You’re going to get your nice jacket all wet.”

Percival glances down and shrugs. “What, this?” Releasing Credence’s hand, he delves both arms into the tub and curl them underneath his young lover. Standing, he hoists him into the air with a great splash. Credence squeaks out in surprise, tossing his arms around Percival’s neck, a burst of laughter filling the whole room.

In a display of perfect timing, the setting sun illuminates pink through the window curtains, casting a warm glow across Credence’s slender form as water and bubbles drip to the ground. When he smiles, he is a comforting flame. When he laughs, he is as radiant as the sun. It’s quite the contrast to the scared, shaking boy he first met, but as he looks at him now, so animated and full of life, Percival reflects just how lucky he is to have met him in the first place.

“What has gotten into you?” Credence breathes as his laughter tapers off.

“I don’t know,” Percival admits, raising the hand under Credence’s knees so that his palm is open. A plush towel flies from the rack right over to them, though it slows suddenly and drapes gently over Credence’s torso before he can catch a chill. “You, I suppose.”

"Me?" One arm remains around his neck while the other pulls the towel in close. Leaning in, Credence lightly nudges Percival's chin with the tip of his nose. "That's silly."

"That's the truth." Percival presses a kiss to his nose. He is being silly. He's being completely ridiculous, but he also couldn't be further from caring. He feels reinvigorated, and he can't explain it, but the payoff of acting on his impulse makes it well worth it.

He carries Credence into their bedroom, draping him across the slate silks adorning their bed. His dark wet curls tumble about the pillow, little specks of bubbles gleaming throughout his hair like tiny pearls. Percival pulls off his scarf, shrugging off his wet jacket as he crawls onto the bed after him, coming up between Credence's legs. For a moment, they just gaze into each other's eyes, and Percival just takes that time to simply admire him.

He knows how beautiful Credence is. Anyone with eyes can see that, but perhaps, he thinks, he shouldn't take that for granted. That he should really take the time to appreciate him more thoroughly. Credence deserves no less.

Lifting a hand, Percival curls a finger around a particularly long lock, draping it down the side of Credence's face. Credence hums under the gentle affection, closing his eyes a moment as though basking in it before slowly opening them to look up at Percival again, though his lids remain half closed.

"I didn't know you had such a spontaneous side," he murmurs breathlessly.

"Me either." Percival grins. "But maybe I should tap into it a little more often if it gets you laughing like that."

Credence turns his head slightly, eyes shifting to the side to look up at Percival as he hums a giggle.

Carefully, Percival nudges down the towel to his collar bone, curling his hands over Credence's shoulders and gently rubbing back and forth. "Are you cold?"

Credence's head falls back to the center. "A little."

"Allow me to warm you up." Percival's hands run down to the outside of his biceps as his head curls in, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

"Yes, Mr. Graves," Credence murmurs coyly with the hint of a giggle, lifting his chin. 

Percival nibbles across his collarbone to the curve of his shoulder. He presses a kiss there before lifting his head his head to regard the other. "Credence?" His young lover blinks and shifts his attention to him. "Would you sing again for me?"

Bright brown eyes blink up at Percival. The heat ghosts right across Credence's nose as it rises on his cheeks. He tucks his chin in a little, but he doesn’t break eye contact. "Right now?"

Percival nods gently.

The tip of Credence’s tongue slips out to wet his lips, a more uncertain gesture than a coy one, but they nevertheless quirk into a grin, and he nods.

Full lips part, and a soft melody breathes past them. 

The song, once again, is one Percival does not recognize. On Credence's lips, however, it's beauty is unparalleled, and that rush of euphoria floods his veins once again. There's something so effortless about the low sincere rasps that he melodically whispers, and when Percival ducks his head in again to return his shower of kisses across his shoulder and to the curve of his throat, the confidence in his voice grows.

His head lowers to shower his attention to the smooth dip of Credence’s collarbone, eliciting a soft sigh that momentarily disrupts his young lover’s song before he falls right back into tune. Percival pulls the towel off to the side, both hands running down the length of Credence’s torso as he puts his weight on his knees and gets a full view of his young lover’s form. The flush of pigment remains across his skin, glistening against the reflection of the low lamp light.

Although their lovemaking is as enthusiastic and passionate as it’s ever been, Percival reflects that as of late, it has been done under the covers in a rush late at night right before bed. When was the last time he took the time to slow down and truly savor this?

His eyes slowly rove across Credence while his palms just as unhurriedly slide their way back up. The color of Credence’s cheeks darken under the scrutiny, and his head inclines, though the lyrics continue. Percival lightly bites onto his bottom lip. His pulse flutters in his chest, the air filling his lungs a little more quickly, and he feels that same inexplicable urge. A compulsion to do something grand to win Credence’s favor, regardless of if he already has it or not.

He wants to kiss every inch of Credence, show him just how beautiful and incredible and mesmerizing he is.

Percival’s hands slip under Credence’s body and the mattress as he dips down. His palms press against Credence’s back, inching him up from the sheets as his worshiping lips work their way across his chest to one of his pink, perky nipples. The flat of his tongue presses against it, dragging across to tease it into a stiff peak before skimming the edge of his teeth over it. Credence’s hands delve into Percival’s hair, loosening the neat combing into tumbles of locks, and for a moment, the song is interrupted by a soft murmur of, "Mr. Graves..."

Percival grins around the nub between his lips before sealing around it. One hand comes around to curl against Credence’s chest, using the pad of his thumb so that the other nipple is no longer ignored. Credence's song dissolves into a moan, his body warm and soft in Percival's grasps, shifting around as his hands clutch desperately. Exhilaration colors Percival's blood, and his toes curl, thighs shifting a bit as though to alleviate the straining throb in his trousers. Percival is rather used to the burn of desire where his young lover is concerned, yet his particular spark is different, unique in that despite his own arousal it is not that physical gratification he finds himself craving. 

Percival moves to the other nipple to replace his thumb with his lips. The song falters as Credence draws in a sharp inhale. His hands drop down, and nails dig through the fabric of Percival’s shirt and vest against his back, knees clutching his still dressed hips as his chest presses against his face. The song finds it way back into the bottom of Credence’s throat faintly, though sudden gasps and soft moans interrupt it here and there.

Lifting from Credence's nipple with a light pop, Percival gently lowers him back to the bed, and both hands lifts to run over the curves of Credence’s shoulders, smoothing down to his biceps. Percival follows one to leave a trail of kisses in their wake. Credence reaches up to grab the tie around Percival’s neck. His fingers barely curl around to loosen it before Percival reaches up to gently take his wrist and remove his hand. Credence’s song pauses for a moment, curious eyes flitting up to Percival’s face, but Percival simply takes one of Credence’s hands, carefully extending each of his fingers and placing a kiss upon each tip. It earns him a tint of rosy cheeks and a hum as Credence grins.

“Let me take care of you, darling,” Percival murmurs. A shy smile graces Credence’s lips, and the song resumes.

Percival turns his head to press his lips reverently across the pulse on Credence’s wrist. Setting his arm down back to the bed, Percival then shifts back down, and his lips find the spot right above Credence’s belly button. He kisses him all over the expanse of his abdomen, teeth dragging across the curve of his hip. He rolls Credence onto his stomach, nosing at the curls on the nape of his neck before wetting the skin underneath with lips, tongue, and teeth. Credence giggles, and his shoulder blades press together, and Percival keeps on going, tracing all the grooves with his mouth, unhurried, enjoying the soft decadence of Credrence's skin.

When he reaches the dimples right at the small of Credence’s back, he places a kiss to each of them, his tongue slipping out to indulge in those perfect little indentations in his skin, rewarded with a little shiver that runs up Credence’s spine and has a few notes sung just a pitch too high. Credence’s hips languidly roll in a way that has that exhilaration fluttering through Percival’s veins, and Percival's hands slip past his hips to his endless legs.

Percival urges Credence onto his back again and starts on his thighs. One at a time, of course. They deserve individual, undivided attention. His hands run opposite directions back and forth across the stretch of them, admiring their seamless structure just as much with touch as he does with his eyes. Credence has voiced his insecurity over his height before, but whatever flaw Credence imagines, Percival has never seen. He reflects that he should take his time like this more often, show Credence just how beautiful he is and just how much he adores him. Resuming his kisses, he leaves a line from Credence’s hip down to his knee. Percival sits back on his heels as he gently ushers a leg up and kisses Credence’s ankle.

“Oh, Percival,” Credence breathlessly whimpers, and when Percival looks up, the length of Credence’s body shimmers with that glow that had started on his face. Credence’s fingers dig into the sheets below him, hips shifting around as though trying to ground his own arousal, and his brows knit together somewhere between pleasure and agony. “What are you doing, Percival? You’re killing me.” The song has stopped, and Credence heaves a shaky breath. “You’re killing me, Percival. You’re so cruel.”

“I can’t help myself,” Percival admits with a grin, running his palm back and forth across the side of Credence’s leg under his knee. “You’re so beautiful, and you mean so much to me. You deserve all the attention.”

Credence’s cheeks never fail to darken a few shades under praise. His lips part as if to respond, but the only thing he can manage along the tremble of his breath is, “ _Please_.”

“Alright, darling.” 

Percival kisses his way back up the side of Credence’s calf, taking both his legs and pushing them on top his shoulders. He’s still fully dressed, but he has Credence naked and completely bared out for him, exposed, vulnerable, and for only his eyes. Credence must be thinking the same thing because when Percival looks up at him, that dusting of pink has returned to his high cheekbones. Despite it, he makes no move to cover himself, simply looks down at him and bites his lip.

The tip of Percival's nose drags up the underside of Credence’s cock, which has Credence gasping, and Percival presses a kiss to the very tip of it before grinning up at him. “Keep singing for me?”

Another shy smile flickers onto Credence’s lips, and once again, the melody flows through them. An invigorating pulse rushes through Percival, fingers and toes curling. Moving in, his lips press against the head of Credence’s cock, parting to take the length into his mouth, moaning as the salt of precome touches his tastebuds.

Immediately, Credence sings higher, and his long fingers tangle into Percival’s hair. One of Percival’s hands sneak around to cup Credence’s balls, fondling them as his lips seal around the girth and his tongue glides across the underside.

Slender thighs squeeze the sides of Percival’s head, and ankles press against the back of his shoulders as they hook together. Percival is all but trapped, but he doesn’t mind. Far from it. His blood runs warm, energizing him body and mind, and there’s not single bit of room in his head for anything other than Credence. His beloved Credence, who is his and only his, and right now, all he wants is to love him and pleasure him.

Percival’s other hand reaches away from them, fingers extended. All he has to do is think about the bottle of oil, and he can hear the creak of the drawer opening before the bottle plants right against his palm of its own accord.

His mouth never leaves Credence as he maneuvers opening the lid and smoothing the oil over his fingers. One hand comes back up to wrap around Credence’s saliva coated length after his mouth comes off of it, while lubricated digits slip into the crevice of his ass. Two fingers glide along until they find the rim, breaching it to surround themselves in that tight heat. A sharp moan cuts into Credence’s song, and his spine arcs off the bed.

Percival glances up at him while his fingers work in and out, his fist continuing its strokes at the same rate. Credence’s eyes are screwed shut, and his hands have fallen back into clutching the sheets. His whole face is pink, and the entirety of his fair body seems to illuminate as the lamp on the nightstand next to them brightens considerably.

“Relax, darling,” Percival whispers as that wet heat clenches around his fingers. “And keep singing.” All Credence can do is whimper and nod before his song shakily resumes.

On the next upstroke, Percival leans in, pressing kisses all around the base of Credence's cock, letting his tongue teasingly dart out against his balls before carefully taking the delicate skin between his lips. Percival breathes deep, inhaling Credence’s gentle musk, which tingles through his veins like an aphrodisiac.

Lyrics are replaced with moans, and they blend together as one melody. Credence’s hips roll against the penetrating fingers, and the energy coursing through Percival has his whole body tensing. His own cock pulses with want in his trousers, straining against the layers of fabric, aching for attention, but Percival does nothing to relieve it. His full attention is on Credence, and the beautiful song of moans and gasps and whispers. The trembling thighs clamped around his head and the glowing body writhing under him are such a different kind of satisfaction. Something so pure and whole and outside of his physical self that he feels like only the two of them even exist right now.

Percival’s submerged fingers curl in, having memorized his young lover’s body so thoroughly that he finds his mark on a single try. Credence’s heels dig into Percival’s back, and the length of his spine curves from the bed as a cry cracks from his lips and his body goes rigid. The bulb of the lamp next to them brightens to its peak then bursts, and Credence spills all over the back of Percival’s hand. Percival can only lift his head enough in the tight clamp of legs to see the sheer ecstasy radiating from Credence’s expression.

After several trembling moments, Credence releases a breath and his warm body unwinds, hands and legs falling away from Percival’s head into a loose heap as he sinks into the mattress. Carefully removing his hands, Percival pushes himself back up to find that desire still burning at the sight of Credence laying before him. His pretty face disheveled in a haze of bliss, fair skin tinted rose, and in the remaining lighting, the sheen of sweat dotting his forehead and glistening over his body reflect from his skin in a way that Percival could swear that he’s glittering. Credence’s eyes stare overhead at nothing, wide in wonder, his lips parted and his chest heaving as he pants for breath.

Grinning, Percival rises and brushed the dark locks clinging to Credence’s forehead away. “You alright, darling?”

Credence blinks. “Oh, Percival…” he breathes. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but that was… Wow.” His eyes find Percival’s and a warm grin draws across his lips. 

After a few moments of catching his breath, Credence eyes shift over to the broken lamp, and a sheepish grin curls onto his lips, shoulders hunching a bit. “Sorry…”

Percival shakes his head and grins. “I tell you every time that it’s nothing to apologize over.” He flourishes his fingers toward the lamp. The bulb shards fly in a stream back into the shade, and it lights up.

Credence hums, hands falling to Percival’s shoulders, lightly pinching the collar of his shirt between his thumbs and fingers. “I can’t believe after all that you’re still fully dressed.”

Percival chuckles. “I told you, darling. I wanted to take care of you.”

“You’re so good to me,” Credence hums, hands curling around the back of Percival’s head. He lifts up to press a kiss to his cheek then a second right above it, and Percival knows he’s kissing his two beauty marks.

Percival’s head turns to lightly nuzzle Credence’s temple. “It’s nothing less than what you deserve.”

“Well,” Credence murmurs as his head falls back to the pillow. He takes Percival’s hand that still has his own fluids dripping down it. Smiling coyly, he looks Percival in the eye as he sucks two of his fingers between his plush pink lips, dragging them out slowly with a pop and revealing them to be nice and clean. His lips smack. “I want to take care of you now.”

Percival groans at the sheer erotic sight. A grin draws across his lips, and he bites into the lower one. He’s certainly not going to say no.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr! Main: [@s-o-l-d-a-t](http://s-o-l-d-a-t.tumblr.com) Gravebone Side: [@veelacredence](http://veelacredence.tumblr.com)


End file.
